Drumming song.

Don't put me up.

Don't hold me up there where I can fall.

'cause I will.

I'll prove you right, every time.

I'll prove empty and unfit.

Hopeless and hapless.

Less than the paper I'm written on.

I hope that, at 28, I can learn this lesson and move on.

Not follow in those ancient footsteps and be doomed to

Pay my grandmother's ransom.

Made a habit, of late, of jumping right in,

Of punching my every fear straight in the face

Of praying that the icy cold, that gasp of breath

The sound might drown out the raging

between my ears.

"but as the water filled my mouth/ it couldn't wash the echoes out"

And I hear it still, that echo calling quiet

I can't. You must understand.

Hated that it hurt so very much

And loved every minute of it.

Loved the challenge, been living on the edge so long.

Now that I've turned the corner, will I find this worthwhile?

Or will it prove empty and unfit, and will I ever return,

To that drumming in my ears,

Following close the song

Pounding, knocking away at the sky, the door, the ceiling,

Anything that will just

Knock back.